


Sun, Sand, Sea

by Shadowstar



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Barebacking, Beach Sex, Companionable Snark, M/M, Minor Steve Rogers/Tony Stark, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-12
Updated: 2020-12-12
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:41:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28024116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadowstar/pseuds/Shadowstar
Summary: Sam and Clint take advantage of being sent on a "team building" trip together on a private beach.
Relationships: Clint Barton/Sam Wilson
Comments: 1
Kudos: 13
Collections: Sam Wilson Bingo 2020





	Sun, Sand, Sea

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Sam Wilson 2020 bingo!
> 
> **Title:** Sun, Sand, Sea   
> **Square Filled:** Smut card, O5 "Sex on the beach"   
> **Pairings/Ship(s):** Clint Barton/Sam Wilson   
> **Rating:** E   
> **Major Tags:** Anal sex, snark, barebacking   
> **Warnings/Triggers:** None   
> **Word Count:** 1862 (according to Cryptpad)   
> **Summary:** PWP; Sam and Clint take advantage of being sent on a "team building" trip together on a private beach. 
> 
> As usual, HUGE shoutout to [Rex](archiveofourown.org/users/PandasaurusRex) for her amazing beta.

The sun was bright, hot. The sand beneath the blanket was just as hot, though it'd cooled significantly since they'd arrived down at the beach and laid the blanket atop it. The overlarge umbrella shading him was also helping with that. 

Sweat pooled in the hollow if his throat, at his hairline, trickling down from his temple to the blanket in question, his chest heaving. There was sweat in the dip in his muscles between his pecs, in the dip of his belly, and he can feel the coolness of it against his lower back. The hair just long enough for his fingers to bury into was slightly damp from the ocean, though the hair at the nape of a tanned neck was damp from sweat, too. 

" _Clint_ ," Sam managed between his pants for breath, pressing his head back into the sand, hips tilting into the fingers opening him up slowly and teasingly. 

Of course, there was no real answer. At least not of the verbal kind.The chuckle and hum around his cock has him shuddering, whining low in the back of his throat in impatience. His toes curl into the blanket, fingers tightening and giving a sharp tug to Clint's hair. Of course, that does _absolutely_ nothing to get the archer to speed things up. If anything, it only made the man slow down further, calloused fingers pulling almost entirely out of Sam to tease at his rim, rubbing and smearing lube against the fluttering muscle.

Apparently, the ice down the back of Clint's shirt earlier was _not_ something Sam should have done; this was not the first time retribution had led to _this_ sort of slow, aching pace. It felt a whole helluva lot like Clint's been at this for hours, though the high sun hasn't moved at _all_ , the shadows of the loungers nearby unchanged. Maybe it was just Sam's impatience that was talking. 

Slowly, teasing him, Clint pulled off Sam's cock, the sound of it as Clint pulled his mouth off _loud_ in the otherwise quiet heat of the private beach around them. 

"There something that you have to say, Sam?" Clint asked, voice low and mildly hoarse, tongue darting out to tease around the edge of the head of Sam's cock.

"Yeah, asshole: _fuck me already_." Sam's rather proud of himself that he managed to get it out coherently, honestly. Go him.

"Mm, don't think that was it," Clint hummed, turning his head to nip at the soft skin of Sam's inner thigh. Sam scowled at the smirk, bucking his hips insistently. All _that_ seemed to do was make Clint click his tongue, his face taking on a faux-disappointed look. "Aw, Sam, c'mon. You gotta be good for me."

"Be _good_?" Sam growled, clenching around the fingers buried in his hole again. "Clint, seriously, if you don't move things along soon, I will."

Clint squints at him, like he was trying to look at Sam through the bright sunlight that seemed to be reflecting off the hot sand around them. Or like he was trying further solidify himself as the world's most dangerous villain. At least, in Sam's eyes. And, of course, Clint's fingers remain where they are, his other hand still wrapped around the base of Sam's cock.

Okay, _fine_.

Sam only squinted at the other man, his only offer of warning before he was flipping them over, grateful that the blanket was _big_ as he dragged Clint up from between his thighs. The kiss is hot, dirty, biting when their lips finally find each other. As they kissed, hungry and insistent, Sam was shifting them, pressing Clint back into the blanket, his knees on either side of the taller man's waist. Once again, Clint chuckled, but at least the asshole was helpful in spreading Sam's cheeks, calloused fingers digging into brown skin. It's not nearly as awkward as it could be to reach back behind him, to grasp Clint's hard cock, up til now mostly ignored, and to give no warning as he pressed himself back and onto it. 

Their lips ripped apart when the head breached past his rim, both of them gasping at the sensation. 

" _Fuck_ , Sam," Clint breathed, reverent as he kept a firm hold on Sam's ass, guiding him back slowly. The man was _strong_ ; the damn bow of his was a lot harder to pull than Sam had originally assumed, and the resulting muscles that Clint had in his arms were _impressive._ Sam had enjoyed being held up against the wall more than once. 

The descent onto Clint's cock was slow, careful, Sam all-too-aware he _might_ have made a _small_ mistake in not taking the time to add a bit more lube. But the burn of the stretch was _good_ , so he wasn't going to complain. 

"Yeah," Sam agreed, belatedly, hips shifting and then, finally, his ass was pressed to the cradle of Clint's hips. But he doesn't move; while the burn and stretch were _good_ , it was... also kind of _a lot_. "Maybe shoulda used a _little_ more lube," he admitted after a moment with a soft huff.

Clint's brow was furrowed in worry immediately, shifting oh-so-carefully, mostly using his abdominal muscles to pull himself up. Immediately, those thick arms were banded around Sam gently. Before Clint could ask if Sam was okay, Sam darted in, taking advantage of the closeness to steal a kiss. Unlike the kiss when they'd rolled, this one was gentler, appreciative. Sipping carefully, his hands cradling Clint's stubbled jaw. 

"Take all the time y'need," Clint murmured hotly into the space between their mouths when Sam finally had to break for a breath. Sam's lips twitched, teasing and warm.

"Oh, thanks for the permission, bird guy," he taunted, shifting his hips _just so_ and clenching. It had both of them gasping in appreciation. 

"You do you, Sam," Clint murmured as they begin to shift and rock together, making Sam chuckle breathlessly.

"I thought _you_ were doing me, Clint," Sam grinned, earning a soft growl of annoyance and a nip at his bottom lip for his snark. 

"You'd like that, wouldn't you. Would like me to turn you right over and fuck you right into the sand," Clint hummed, neither of them ceasing their careful movements. To agree with Clint's comment, Sam's thighs flexed, raising him just the slightest bit before he let himself drop onto Clint's cock again.

"Yeah, I would," Sam agreed, groaning as he did it again, bracing himself on Clint's shoulders as he ground _hard_ into Clint when Clint's cock was buried deep into him again.

"You're gonna have to pull off me and get on your hands and knees for that to be a possibility. Just saying." Clint grunted as he tightened his arm around Sam, his own hips rising to meet Sam's movements. His hand wound up on Sam's shoulder, forearm pressed to Sam's back, which _completely_ killed the argument that it would take Sam turning over to be truly and properly fucked into the sand.

"Mm, sounds like a _you_ problem, bow boy; seem t'be doing just fine as is," Sam taunted lowly, fingers burying into sweaty hair as he continued to fuck himself onto Clint's cock. Their foreheads pressed together, sticky with sweat, breathing the same air for a long moment. 

The moment was only broken by a slow, heated kiss that Clint used as a distraction method to be able to twist them down and over, bearing Sam onto the blanket. Clint's thrusts became driving, each drag of Clint's cock lighting up Sam's nerve endings. He gasped into the kiss as Clint really set about fucking him properly, his knees drawing up higher to help with the issue of angle. 

They're sticky with sweat beneath the umbrella, the sun unforgiving as they moved together. Their moans got caught in kisses, swallowed by lips pressed to salty-sweet skin. And in his movements, Clint was _relentless_ , pulling endless sounds from the man beneath him. Sam, for his part, could only really hold on, clenching every once in a while in encouragement of Clint's motions. 

"I'm getting close," Clint warned, breathing hard, hips continuing the hard, deep thrusts that had Sam arching into him. 

"Do it," Sam begged, though he wasn't entirely sure which of the implications he was begging _for_ : for Clint to slick up his insides, or to reach between them for Sam's cock so that he could tip over and draw Clint with him. Or both, both was an _excellent_ idea, even if it didn't really make all that much sense in his heat-and-sex-fuzzed brain.

Clint seemed to get the gist, at least. Seemed to understand that it was both permission and a plea for release. His hold on Sam shifted only a little, shifting his weight to his elbow half-beneath Sam to reach between them. Between the sweat and the precum, Clint's hand glided along Sam's shaft, thumb flicking over the head on the upstroke, twisting _just so_ like he knew Sam liked. It didn't take too much for Sam to tip over the edge; between the thick cock spreading him open, and the calloused hand on his cock, he was just _gone_. 

He had no way to arch up into it, not with the way he'd gottten his legs wound around Clint. But he did his best to meet the jackrabbit thrusts, sharp and rhythmless, as Clint groaned out his own orgasm. Sam could feel the man circling his hips, grinding them into Sam's ass as he emptied his load deep into Sam's willing body. A shudder worked its way through Sam as he clenched around Clint's softening cock, encouraging, earning another jerk of Clint's powerful hips and a deep, chuckled groan.

Finally, panting, Clint carefully and gently eased out of the man beneath him, rolling over and flopping onto the blanket beside Sam. The two of them lay sprawled and panting, grinning dumbly, their stomachs painted with Sam's cum and the sweat they'd shared during their activities. 

"Remind me to send Stark a fruit basket for recommending us for the 'team training'," Clint breathed with a rough chuckle. Their fingers tangled messily on the blanket between them, and Clint tugged gently at Sam's hand. Sam turned his head, letting Clint drag his hand up to Clint's mouth, and Sam's whole body was pleasantly warm and gooey at the sweet brush of lips against his knuckles.

"Nah. Better send him lube and condoms; maybe a gift certificate to his favorite lingerie store," Sam returned with a chuckle, squeezing Clint's hand. Clint laughed, turning to look back at Sam, grinning broadly.

"You're right. He's probably buried balls deep in Steve right now; probably hasn't even checked the missed progress reports." Sam laughed in agreement to Clint's assessment, turning on his side to be able to tilt his head and press his forehead against Clint's shoulder. Clint shifted and gently rubbed at Sam's arm, stroking over soft, dark skin, tracing nonsensical patterns into the other man's skin.

He didn't let Sam's hand go, though. And Sam was pretty sure that's indicative of _something_ , but he's too languid and sleepy to really put too much thought to it.


End file.
